Knitting and running

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Monthly Archives: May 2017

And then I had a couple of days off from the internet. With the result that: I am actually on top of my to-do list (bar needing to get writing paper to write to people), I have almost gotten organised on printing photos for a photo album, I have put some wood floor down in the main bedroom of the dollshouse, and papered a wall in it (both badly, but I have done it and I am thrilled with the result. It’s not a perfect house. It’s my house. And these were jobs which were anything up to 17 years overdue. The hall lamp has not been working for far too many years. And the rewiring job needed covering up). There’s a bit of painting to do on the dollshouse, a bit of sorting out the fireplaces, and then I’m onto arranging furniture, and making new soft furnishings for it. Which is where I’ve wanted to be for some years now.

I’ve also decided to not run the Midsummer Munro (but I will be marshalling, so I can do another race in the Trionium Series later in the year without losing money. Seemed sensible, as the day was already set aside), and to do Wycombe Half instead. No way can I be fit enough for 13.1 miles of epic hill in 1 month’s time having had the better part of two weeks out with a chest infection. But, give me three more weeks, and something with mild hills, and I’ll be fine. I was just getting into longer runs when I went down ILL during Brownie Holiday last weekend, and I spent much of this weekend either driving clobber to Guide Camp or sleeping. Naturally, I am feeling perfectly fine now the long weekend is over, I am not supposed to be at Guide Camp (I did not go to Guide Camp – I was not well enough to do more than drive, and that practically knackered me irretrievably) and all I need to do is go to work. Go figure.

I have finished Color Affection (gosh, those last rows are boringly long-winded). I am about to cast on some Blu jeans for T’s baby. A schoolfriend is having IVF twins in November – so I have chosen a pattern for them (and need to acquire some suitable yarn). N’s marathon socks are yet to be started, but I do have the socks that I left round someone’s flat during a planning meeting back in my possession.

In other words: I gave myself a break. And I feel vastly better for it.

Me, to N, on my way out of the kitchen and before he heads to White Hart Lane for the very last time (a 40 year love affair).

“Don’t rip your seat from the stand on the way out.”

N: “I’ve already bought it.”

Me: “…?”

N: “They’re going to pack it up in a presentation box and send it over.”

Me (internally: What The Actual F***? This is a thing already?): “Oh jolly good. Where are you going to put it?”

I’m now watching the special closing of the ground ceremony on the tellybox, getting totally overemotional (good thing I am not there…) as they march out players of days of yore. Goodness me, Peter Crouch is about a foot taller than everyone else. Someone who also has a degree in Russian has just appeared. The crowd goes WILD for Glenn Hoddle. And wilder for Pat Jennings… Cliff Jones has just jogged (seriously) onto the pitch. At the age of 82. Eighty two. And he’s jogging.

I’m having an epic fail to concentrate on work: Dad’s having a pacemaker fitted more or less right now (following fainting and falling over a couple of times before Easter: not something you want to be doing while on blood thinners, as it can get very messy), and I’m quite simply disinclined to pay attention to what I should be doing. It’s all done under local anaesthetic, but one still worries a little bit. Daddies are important! I reckon the pacemaker’s long overdue, so this should improve his quality of life a bit. He’s just looked exhausted a lot of the time.

So. What’s occurrin’?

Nick STORMED Boston Marathon in 3:44:32, on a ridiculously warm day. I positioned myself right at the top of Heartbreak Hill for a sweaty kiss, but didn’t manage to catch up with him before the finish line. I’m very proud. He didn’t overheat. He didn’t collapse. It wasn’t his fastest marathon (3:22:25 at Berlin) nor his slowest. Boy did well. He’s having a bit of time off from running so hard – it’s been 2 years since he started the Boston Adventure, by training for Berlin, and he’s keen to get back to cycling. I believe a fourth bicycle is being eyed up. I got to see Emerson College. Way way back, as a teenager I entered a short story competition hosted by it. And I got a commendation! You wouldn’t believe it, given my haphazard writing style now.

We went to the Blessing of Athletes. It was brilliantly bonkers. Queuing round the block to get in. White ribbons to wave every time the word Alleluia was said (or sung – and we rounded off the service with the Hallelujah Chorus…), a full brass band and a bagpiper. Very welcoming: I have no idea which stream of Christianity we were in, but I heartily approve and I wish more churches were like that. Even N, who is atheistic, enjoyed the proceedings.

Yarn to make Boston Marathon Socks

It was a lovely viewing spot…

Yes. That’s Bobbi Gibb. First woman to ever run Boston.

The Amtrak to New York from Boston is lovely. Ditto from NY to Montreal. So much more civilised than cramming into a plane. And more environmentally friendly. I did have an awful Clomid-related meltdown on the second Amtrak. I really do hate the stuff (even if I am now, apparently, ovulating! Woo hoo!). The depths of despair which I end up plummeting into on day 3 or 4 of taking the things really makes me question if I’ve got the mental fortitude for IVF. On the plus side: I’ve had a CBT appointment, so hopefully we can get me slightly more sorted out and calmer, trying to do less, and trying to be less wound up. My MiL has done some woo-foot reflexology on me, and I am supplementing, and eating oily fish, and avocado, and egg, and proper dairy, which should help with progesterone levels in the second half of the cycle. TMI?

Ate the burger. Polished off the milkshake. Wandered round for about an hour saying ‘that was AWESOME!’ on a total sugar high. Probably won’t repeat the experience, but man, did it make up for the time I turned down a super-duper ice-cream sundae on the grounds of having cleaned my teeth (my parents had fused the lights in the hotel room by making tea. Or, rather, failing to make tea. Mum and I were reading in the corridor, the concierge turned up, said ‘oh’, disappeared, reappeared with said ice cream. Mum ate it… Such a typical 7 year old move).

Montreal’s lovely. Really really excellent food. And a bonus 5km race, which I stormed in 25:29 chip, a full two minutes faster than the previous parkrun, and one minute off my PB. It was cold, wet, and a nice flat course with lots of space. Even went onto the F1 Grand Prix track (briefly). We’d visited that the day before, and stood in pole position. Can’t imagine just being able to wander round the Grand Prix track at Silverstone, but here it was open for all to use, and had a couple of damp looking cyclists doing laps.

I like local yarn as a souvenir

Since then, I’ve been running in a jetlagged fug. It always takes me a good two weeks to recover back from a trip over the Atlantic. It’s a lovely problem, but frustrating. I’ve also had a lot of early nights, particularly this week, being on call and wanting to be at my desk by 8am. Which doesn’t sound fearful until you take into account the fact that I need to be on the 6:46am train in order to achieve that.

And, the Science Day I’m organising for 200 Guides seems to be coming together nicely in the last week – I was panicking. Now I’m energised. There is still a LOT to do this weekend.

Knitting is occurring too. Right now, I have a Color Affection on the needles for F, some socks for L (no link, I want to surprise her), a sweater for me (not going well, I have gauge issues) and a little cardigan for J, which I’m going to Swiss darn the flowers onto. I think this will look better than intarsia. And the number of ends to sew in will be the same.